This is a work of Cyber Punk Science Fiction, it's the story of a man who wrote a book
about a statue that he wanted to build. It tells the story of the path that he may take to
realize this dream. The title is a pun on the Big Bang Theory, just as reality as we know
it exploded from a single point of matter Eons ago, so too does World Peace spring from
the erection of the most Audacious Sculpture yet conceived.

The Big Bong Theory contains much that is Politically incorrect, this is because it is
mainly a Satirical Comedy about the mercenary thought patterns and the cult of Personality
that currently infests parts of this planet. Many sacred Cows are ruthlessly and messily
slaughtered along the way. If you're the kind of person who's easily offended and you read
this book and disagree with any or all of it then simply stop reading and get on with your
life.

Before you can make an informed opinion on the contents of this book, you first have to
read it and, since that is the general idea behind writing a book in the first place, now
would be a good time to start.... ;O)--~

Welcome to the shareware/ downloadable/ on-line/ electronic version of the Big
Bong Theory. I no longer know how many thousands of people in how many countries (over 35
last time I counted) have been exposed to the Concept in various ways.

Many people have helped me expand the network of people who are committed to the
creation of the symbol to world peace. The number of people who have gifted me a lift, a
couch, a qwerty and/or a lung full of green freedom is beyond count, I thank each of you
and can only add that all of your kindness will be repaid in kind when the Peace Pipe is
built.

The basic premise is that this is written as a retrospective biography by the lead
characters nieces in the year 2025, whilst the story is set in the "Right Now"/
"Immediate Future" the position taken by the "Author" is that all that
happens is considered fact, well, that was the intent any way, I leave it up to you to
judge. I would also like to point out that the character Glitter is just that, a character
in a novel, if the population of this earth all want to live in a state of Peace we are
ALL going to have to work towards it..... Remember if you laugh one time, it's literature.

Peace
Gary John Gray.

THE BIG BONG THEORY States;

There are many possible futures,
this is just a happier version than others.

Authors Note;As you read this you will notice that the style
changes about quite a bit, this is due to the manner in which the information was
assembled. I have tried to be as accurate as possible, but as always, history has a way of
rewriting itself. The memories that people have of Glitter the man have been softened by
time. By all accounts he was a true rebel who cared for little more than the ability to
party, he was very much into quality of life and his style of living was, in the end, the
reason he left us the way he did. We stuck here on Earth still wait to see if he ever made
the transition from a biological entity into the electrically generated, multidimensional,
antigravitational, light speed capable being he spent his life attempting to become. His
legacy lives on in those who have read his poetry and prose. Much of what you are about to
read has been garnered from among the millions of words that make up his diaries and
journals. If you read from the original you come to terms with the fact that he considered
himself a trapped and mis understood individual for most of his life. He was driven by a
dream and all throughout his journals are poetic references to his desire to be
understood. He believed in no God and loved to debate the question of their existence.
Privately he was always sure that he would be able to solve the problem, believing that
the answer was wrapped up like a ball of string inside his mind, but he could never find
the logical starting point to commence the unraveling. He often wrote with despair of this
failing, after years of pondering, the closest answer was that the ball of string was an
extremely convoluted Moebius strip. He would also describe his thought processes as being
like numerous parallel conveyor belts all moving at different speeds that he could
traverse at will. It was often hard to talk to him, as if he was stranded off to one side,
few people could understand him, hence the frequent references by others to his lack of
sanity, he was ever ahead of his time, perhaps one of his greatest handicaps. He enjoyed
one on one linear conversations and in the right conditions, with no distractions, he
could take you on the wildest rides through histories past and futures possible, yet he
always lived in the Now. He was a physically unimposing man of average height and
appearance, fair skinned with reddish blonde hair, he drank Coffee almost continually. His
reason for smoking Marijuana was that it made him feel ELSE, I still don't fully
understand that! He was a true chameleon, always growing a beard and then shaving it off,
he wore his hair in so many ways that it is impossible to catalogue, he was just
different, yet he was a ordinary man, but there was also a certain indefinable something,
something extra about him. My first impression of him was when he would come around to
visit my parents, staying on their couch for a couple of days and then disappearing out
into the world only to reappear at infrequent intervals. He was to many eyes an imperfect
person, obsessed with his Art, he was unconcerned what other people thought of him, he
coined a saying, "As soon as I stopped thinking what other people were thinking about
me, the more time I had for thinking." He was always possessed of extraordinary good
humor, he taught us how to laugh at life and for that I am extremely grateful. Every time
that our family was heading for a crisis or disaster he had the happy knack of turning up
and diffusing the situation, always with the right words, no matter the occasion. Yes, I
suppose that I loved him but then you can't choose your family can you? I have elected to
start with the Big Bong Theory, the mechanism that he employed to create his fortune, he
always considered it purely a financial vehicle to force the world to listen to reason, it
is as good a place to start on this reckless adventure, one that can best be described as
a "Moebius Trip."

The Big Bong Theory States;

Reverse Cycle Financing Expanded.

In the same way that a company pays to have it's name associated with a
Product or an Idea, so too should it be made to pay to have nothing what so ever to do
with the same Product or Idea!

Chapter One.

The Mid North Coast of Australia in the latter part of the 1990's,
a balmy afternoon, alone with the road again.

A Hitch-hiker is strolling along the road as the sun is setting, whistling a tune as he
goes. Cars and Trucks zoom past, the Hitcher is oblivious to the fact that no one is
stopping to give him a lift. He is dressed in a pair of faded and patched trousers,
Snakeskin cowboy boots, a Tee shirt of obscure origin and on his head, a battered and
stained Green Bay Packers Cap. He whistles the same catchy tune over and over in time to
the sound of his footsteps as he crunches along the gravelly shoulder of the road. His
sun-glasses don't disguise the cautious gaze of a man who is accustomed to being acutely
aware of his surroundings. He stoops occasionally to examine the debris that is scattered
along the side of the highway, each piece is examined as if for future use and then either
stowed in his Backpack or discarded. A Vintage car slows down and stops beside him.
"Where are you heading?" asks the leather helmeted and goggled car enthusiast as
the Hitch-hiker draws level with his machine?
"North."
"Hop in, just toss your gear on the back seat."
"Thanks."
"My name is John and this old girl is Mathilda, she's a 1921 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost
with a Packard touring body, she's probably the only one of her kind in the world. She has
done over half a million miles and for all I know has got another million left in her,
she'll out last me that's for sure."
"It's a cool sled Man." replies the Hitcher with a trace of twang in his voice.
"Is that an accent I hear? Sounds American."
"Nah, Aussie, just spent a couple of years over there is all."
"So what's your name mate?"
"Glitter."
"Why do they call you that?"
"It's a long story."
They lapse into silence, the wind roaring through where the windows would be in a modern
car.
"How far north are you going?"
"I'm looking for a place to start a business venture I have in mind, I'll know it
when I see it."
"What kind of business venture?"
"Kind of a long story."
"Do you know any short stories?" comments John with a smile.
"A couple." says Glitter, warming to the kindness that emanates from the driver
of this exotic vehicle.
"What do you do for a living?"
"I'm a Poet."
"Does that pay? I once heard that the only difference between Poetry and Poverty was
the letter V."
"Ha, too true John, especially if the letter Vee stands for Vanity."
"Well said, so what did you do in America?"
"Primarily, I went there to research a novel, mind you, I left Australia under
somewhat of a financial cloud, I ended up in Dallas, Texas. I found myself broke and
homeless, in order to survive I hustled my way in and out of some outrageous situations.
As to exactly what they were, well, I'll send you a copy of the book when I finish it,
hah, I got half way into it and got thunderbolted by the best idea I ever had, but back to
what I was saying, my time in the States enabled me to expand my network of contacts and
gain direct experience on how people think, work and live, it was a most educational
experience, I assure you. So what do you do that affords you such a magnificent machine as
Mathilda?"
"I sell Seals."
Glitter claps his hands together a couple of times and says, "You don't mean ARF-ARF
seals to Aquariums, Zoos and stuff?"
"No," says John with a smile, "Hydraulic seals for machinery and heavy
equipment."
"Sounds Cool, but please, tell me more about the car."
"As you may or may not know, a car can only be considered vintage if it was made
between the end of World War One and the end of the Roaring Twenties. In those days Rolls
Royce only sold the chassis, you had to buy the coach work separately. She was brought to
Australia by the Biscuit king Colonel Arnott and originally had a body by Maythorn, later
on they fitted a camper body on to her so they could go on vacation. She was sold and
languished in that undignified condition in Bowral until some time in the Sixties. She was
sold again and became part of the Palfreyman collection, it was at this time she was
fitted with the Packard body. She is a true Anglo American work of art, I bought her in
1971 and she has been my love ever since."
"I suppose it's hard to get spare parts for her?"
"You're not wrong there, they have to be hand made, fortunately she was built in a
time when craftsmen were proud. So the saying is, She doesn't break down, only fails to
proceed! She'll still do 80 mph with the wind behind her, watch this and hang on."
John jams the pedal to the metal and a maniacal grin spreads across his face as Mathilda
puts the bit between her teeth, he flips the rear muffler cut out switch. He has to shout
over the awe inspiring sound of an 8 1/4 litre straight Six in full song.
"When I first got her we couldn't understand why she would only go 50 mph, then we
realised that who ever had bolted on the Packard body hadn't left enough room under the
accelerator pedal. This meant she was only running on 3/4 throttle when your foot was
flat, a bit of corrective surgery and now the only problem is stopping her, she's only got
drum brakes on the back so I hope we don't have to stop in a hurry!"
"Who cares Man, anything you hit is gunna stay hit!"
As they rumble through the night John slowly brings the car back to a speed where
conversation can be coherently shouted. "Tell me about this business venture of
yours."
"As I already mentioned, I was broke and homeless in the USA, I was also unemployed,
trouble is so are about 2 million Septics. "Excuse me for interrupting but what
exactly is a Septic?"
"It's rhyming slang, Septic is short for Septic Tank which rhymes with Yank, Septic
Tank-Yank. I like to use it because by and large they are both full of shit! Of course I
was living in Texas and they still remember the war of Northern Aggression and they don't
take kindly to being called Yanks."
"Hmmm, that's worth knowing."
"Any how, I've mostly made my living as a salesman but when I was in the States I did
anything I could to keep surviving."
"Was it tough?"
"Yeah, but to tell you the truth, some of the people I met over there are amongst the
nicest I've ever met. It is a shame that most people base their opinion of Americans on
what they see on TV, because we only ever get to see the worst side of their culture.
After I got the hang of the place I ended up as a designer for a rapidly expanding Pool
company, it was a gas. I'd go into peoples' homes and do a layout of their backyards
potential, I used to look on it as being an artist, I'd do a design and then build it, my
art work is spread all over North Texas. I was set up for life, I had the coolest sled, it
was the last of the Dinosaurs, a hard loaded 1979 Primrose Yellow 454 cubic inch V8
Cadillac Sedan de Ville, Ha!, I used to call it the Banana Boat, it was the perfect
drunk tank. Man, you ain't lived till you get behind the wheel of a big old Caddy, get you
a pretty little Texas girl to sit beside you, make sure you got a 6 pack and about twenty
joints. Then hit the express ways, it's like being Jimmy Buffett in a Bruce Springsteen
tune. I had it all, the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in real life, we shared a house
with every possible modern convenience, I had achieved every goal I'd ever set for myself,
yet something was missing. At the risk of sounding like I've gone insane, the best
description I can offer you is that one night I suddenly interfaced the dormant 90% of my
brain and logically arrived at a perfectly workable solution to World Peace and Nuclear
Disarmament!
"You what?"
"I've logically worked out a cohesive plan to achieve world peace and a way to end
the nuclear threat."
Upon hearing this John brings the car to a halt and turns to Glitter,
"You can't be serious."
"I am completely serious and committed to both those goals, my main problem has been
one of finding a method of getting the idea across, to that end I have embarked on a
strategic campaign to get the attention of the entire population of this planet. Let me
leave you with an outline of the path I intend to follow to achieve these goals, read it
in your spare time and then either give it to anyone else you think may be interested, or
throw it away."
Glitter then retrieves his Backpack from the rear seat and then adds, "Thanks for the
lift John, I'd prefer to walk for a while, it's such a beautiful night."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I hope we see each other again, I enjoyed both your company and the ride in
this remarkable machine."
With that said and hands shook, Glitter starts to walk and whistle the same tune. John and
Mathilda continue their journey, "What an most unusual person." comments John to
Mathilda, naturally there is no reply.

The Big Bong Theory States;

It is a shame that Johnny Appleseed wasn't known as Johnny
Marijuanaseed.
Reflect upon the ramifications of this concept.

Chapter Two.

The same night, further up the coast,
the lights of a small town off in the distance.

As Glitter tunefully makes his way north he suddenly stops, his nostrils flare as he
sniffs the air, his posture takes on the appearance of a hunter on the spore of a wild
animal. He hears the faint sound of merriment coming from the bush to his left. He moves
silently through the underbrush and pauses behind a tree to investigate the scene before
him. His eyes bear out the evidence of his nose, several young people are sitting around a
camp-fire drinking beers, the unmistakable aroma of marijuana wafts in his direction. A
smile crosses Glitters face as he walks toward them, the revelers are unaware of his
presence until he's in their midst.
Mass confusion follows, "We're busted, he's a cop!" a short scuffle ensues as
two of the guys jump onto Glitter in order to give the others time to escape, Glitter
follows a path of passive acceptance, ultimately ending face down in the dirt.
"He doesn't look like a cop, more like a bum." says the first.
"He could be an under cover Narc." says the other local hero.
"Chill out guys, I come in Peace."
"How can we tell you aint a cop?"
"If you let me up I can prove that I came here to share in your session."
"You got buds?" Local Hero asked greedily?
"Of course, the rankiest, skankiest buds available, I wouldn't have thought to join
you if I didn't herb of my own to spare and share."
They let him go, he stands and starts to brush the dirt from his clothes, surprisingly
there is a noticeable difference in the state of his attire, for whilst his clothes are
worn and travel stained, they were obviously clean before the fracas! The others return
and take up their previous positions around the fire, there is a silence as the locals
look at Glitter expectantly.
One of the girls breaks the silence when she asks, "Why are you wearing sun-glasses
at night, are you trying to look cool or something?"
"These are prescription night driving glasses and the only pair of glasses have left,
and as far as trying to look Cool, Cool is a state of mind not a style of appearance. But
listen, if Y'all don't want any company I'd just as soon be on my way and leave Y'all to
enjoy your little get together."
"How come you talk funny, you a foreigner? asks local girl #1.
"What is your name?" asks local hero #2.
"They call me Glitter, I'm an Australian, although I've lived all over the world in
my short lucky life."
"Where have you been ?" asks local hero #1.
"Around and about, it isn't the number of places you've been that's important but
rather the experiences you've had and what you've learnt from them."
"You sound like some kind of Preacher man or Professor."
"I am neither, I'm looking for a place to start a business venture that I have been
planning for a while and I assure you I am non religious in the extreme."
"So what is this business venture you want to start?"
"I am a poet and an artist and I intend to make a movie about the erection of the
worlds largest working Peace Pipe. The working title of this project is the Big Bong
Theory, the statue of the Bong will be over as tall as 20 story building and will be full
of photographs of Bongs sent by like minded and peaceful people from all over the world.
With the money I make from this project I intend to buy all the Nuclear missiles in the
world, fill them with toxic waste and terminally ill people and then fire them down the
gravity well and into the Sun. Before Y'all start to think I'm a lunatic or worse take a
look at this."
Glitter then passes out copies of his Propaganda Pamphlet and in doing so learns their
names. "I'll just sit here and enjoy the firelight as Y'all wrap your minds around
the concept."
Glitter then rolls up the leg of his jeans and selects a joint from the inside of his
boot, the inner edge of his beat up old Snakeskin boots has a cartridge belt like effect
sown into it, each boot holds about twenty joints.
"Hey check out the boots, they're too cool, where you get them?" asks Belinda.
Glitter takes a couple of deep tokes from the joint and then passes it around his new
friends, as he exhales he rasps, "Dallastexas."
"Can you buy 'em like that?" asks Free Ball the Clown.
"Nah, I sewed it my self, see how this flap makes it look like a lining or padding?
It fools all but the most diligent searcher."
The party mood is soon re-established as the locals all start to get the full scope of
Glitters' conspiracy, when they finish, they look at Glitter in a new light.
Kelly challenges Glitter, "You say in here that you are a poet, tell us one of your
poems."
"Okay, this is called "Poem Break" and it's about loneliness,
Ahem."

Rhyming words by candle light, who is calling me tonight?
Can I sit here all alone? Waiting patiently by the phone?
Who will call, if at all? Another hour stare at wall.
Sit and hear the traffic flow, living life super slow,
taking time to take all in, plastic liner in the bin,
Cockroach family live in clock,
they must move to another rock.
Lift the rock Zen the bottom side,
a different world in a different size,
Are we big or are we small? Another hour stare at wall.
Turgid sounds unto my ear, Raison d'etre still unclear,
Wattle flower, wild beans, other world, other means.
Turned off lights now unlit hall, Another hour stare at wall.
The far off field with grass so green,
15 degree angle Tee pole lean,
Oak tree in chimney, cross the street,
sand stone story, incomplete.
Corner shop to shopping Mall, Another hour stare at wall.
Sorry now at rash decisions.
Slow results with no rescissions.
Power station turned off now,
Which? What? Why? When? How?
Candle now a dying glow. Wall, of course the same.
If Love is a moth, then I'm a red hot flame.

"Wow" says Kelly, that's beautiful. I have never heard a real
poet before, it's so descriptive, where did you write that?
"Thank you, if you ever go to Drummoyne in Sydney, there is a house there that was
once famous, it was called the Party House. Oh the tales of bacchanalia I could tell of
those days of wine and ganja, I wrote that on a cold winters night and it is the view from
the balcony seen through the eyes of a lovelorn poet.
"Is all this for real?" inquires Julie.
"It is a viable future, I now only need the right place to build it."
"Why not here?" asks Big Al.
"Where am I?
"The right place!" they chorus.

The Big Bong Theory States:

Surely
it makes far more sense for the cigarette manufacturing companies to spend all of the
compensation money that the courts will soon force them to pay out on "Lung
Replacement" techniques? I mean, if cheap lungs were available, we could all keep on
smoking and they could keep on making their earned profits.. I'm not talking about buying
lungs from third world countries for transplant here, I'm talking growing them
artificially, in vats or such. Sigh, if only Walt had of had this thought and poured the
Disney millions down this path, maybe he wouldn't be a Corpsicle now..

Chapter Three.

Around the fireside, later the same night,
as the party really starts to kick ass!

As the night wears on more and more people turn up, as if the word has leaked out that an
event of world shaking proportions was occurring, it had and it was! Glitter had finally
found an audience that was prepared to put their own egos to one side and let him describe
the full scope of the conspiracy. Unbeknowenced to Glitter, but becoming more and more
apparent as the night went on, most, if not all of the people that Glitter had been
Bonging for opinions over the preceding years had been covertly following him, waiting for
him to decide on the right place to start his Peace Movement. Glitter thinks to himself,
well at least this explains the paranoid sensation I've been feeling over the last couple
of months. Friends of his and friends of theirs, from all over the world start to arrive.
From business men to bikies to bums, a weird melange of humans have come to hear Glitter.
Seated near the fire, leaning against his backpack which is propped against a near by
tree, Glitter begins to speak in a strong clear voice.
"I can see from the faces around me that some of you have traveled a long way to get
here, if you have flown here, then you know how big the Earth is and how small you are.
There is no monument or gross physical scar that we humans can leave on the surface of
this planet of ours that time will not erode, we exist because we can and we are just a
fleeting phase of the big picture. No human being can understand the whole based on one
single piece of a very complex puzzle, many have tried and managed to convince others that
they know the Answer. If any of you think I want to start a religion or a cult then you
are mistaken, my dream is to build the first statue dedicated to world peace. The method
or apparatus that I have chosen is both simple and complex, it requires the participation
of you and everyone you know. The way will be hard at first because this statement can be
and will be misconstrued by many people. On my way up here I collected the bottles you see
before you, I intend holding them to ransom. With the money collected from this extortion
we will commence the construction of the Bong. Now under the laws of this country what I
propose is illegal, but in the global picture I believe that there needs to be a standard
for neutrality that is apolitical. This standard of peace and neutrality will be a Big
Bong Tee shirt. We will make these from Hemp fiber grown specially for the Peace Pipe
Project, like minded people from all over the world will be able to purchase a Big Bong
Peace Package containing a Tee shirt, a copy of the novel, a copy of the movie, a bumper
sticker, in short as many associated products as possible. Then we will hold a party and
conduct the largest community stoning since the days of the Roman Empire! The crowd
responds with loud cheering, Glitter stands and scratches a ring in the dirt with his
boots.
"Toss all your money and Smoko inside this circle and we will make a start."
Then raising his voice to a shout, Glitter yells,"IF I BUILD IT, WILL YOU TOSS INTO THE MULL?"
A resounding "YES" thunders across the clearing.

MULL = Australian slang term for shared resources, used almost exclusively to refer to
a Marijuana Smoking Session. Each participant brings what ever they can to the session,
money, implements, tunes or herb. The basic idea that a mull shared goes further and is
better than smoking on your own. A further note on Mull, it is either "Spun" by
adding tobacco (Spin.) or straight.

The Big Bong Theory States;

I hope this is being printed on recycled paper,
other wise I will alienate the Greenies..... Well, maybe not the true Green Greenies,
just the tree huggers.